Chapter 10: End

"We traverse the void, either by occasion or by accident, but it matters not what our intentions were before the first step. We take it, and then we are trapped. There is no escape. There was never an escape. There never will be." ~Anonymous

Sweetie Belle actually blanched as she heard the hinges screaming as memories of her first step into the MIND came rushing back. In a moment she felt as if something was fundamentally wrong… But she could not turn back now. She had done too much; she had changed too much. Holding her Zepto Sword high, Sweetie Belle slowly stepped into the tower... and found herself in the middle of blackness. Though light had indeed be streaming out to meet her eyes when she had been standing before the door, it did not matter. The instant she placed a hoof into the tower, she was hurled into another void. But this void was different. Every void she had entered had always had a horrible feeling. She was either too confined or too alone in every other situation. But this void, once again, was different. It was alive… and it was inspiring. Though darkness was predominate, Sweetie Belle was aware of the shadows. Light irradiated from her, bringing disparity. But this was not a harsh disparity that had been whispered about in the ravished land of Effort. The light and dark simply were, they signified no undulating expectations of either side of the moral scale. In addition to that, Sweetie Belle felt no fear, only pure interest. Her curiosity was piqued, despite the fact that pure nothingness was her only companion in this new plane of reality (or non-reality).

Then came a voice. "Sweetie Belle."

Sweetie Belle started. Only a couple beings in the MIND knew who she was. What being here knew of her, or her past?

"Y-yes?" she called, her voice vanishing into darkness.

"You traversed the MIND. You collected the Living Keys. You found the door in a land of failure. What drives you so?"

Sweetie Belle actually froze in shock of the question. She was utterly unsure, just as she was unsure of whom was asking the question. However, the latter did not matter at all here, all that mattered was the question. It had been so long ago when she had first ventured into the MIND. Why had she done such a thing in the first place? What had driven her to undertake the task of treading the cursed regions of the MIND? Surely nothing could have made her do something so irrational and horrible… But she was here nonetheless.

Hearing nothing from Sweetie Belle, the voice continued to talk. "Your efforts have been terrifying in their magnitude. Your mark would have been left in each region had not the Shadow, a horrible Furor, been at your every other turn. Verily, your convictions rival the forces of Grief itself. Mayhap there could have been hope in combating its writhing armies had it not been for the Shadow."

"Wait a second," interjected Sweetie Belle, "I could have… BEATEN the Grief?"

"It is possible," said the voice, "You did many things to transcend Grief. Many questions forced earthward, many evils made aware and destroyed. The greatest of enemies are not always the visible, young one."

"Do I need to go back?" asked Sweetie Belle, actually torn between horror of actually having to do so, and interest in the possibility to crush the force that had corrupted so many of the ponies she had known throughout her journeys.

"No," came the reply, "There is nothing you can do. You have been marked by the Shadow. The cycle will continue. I am sorry."

There was a pause again as Sweetie Belle tried to comprehend the voice's speech. What exactly was it trying to say? She did not know, and she had no time to even continue attempting to understand, for a second later the voice continued to talk. "Here you are. You have survived the unthinkable. You have done the unspeakable. What is it that you want from all of this?"

Sweetie Belle's stomach churned with excitement, and her heart nearly beat out of her chest. It was almost over. She could tell. For a second she could not speak because her throat was so dry, and because her head was veritably swimming with relief.

"I… I… I WANT MY OLD LIFE BACK!" cried Sweetie Belle. She started when she realized she had practically screamed her request.

A minute passed before the voice replied. When it did, it was soft, almost condescending. "Do you even remember what your old life was?"

In less than a second Sweetie Belle's excitement turned to fear as she realized that the voice was posing an impossible-to-answer question. In all honesty, she did not recall her past life. All she remembered was screaming… crying… that was it. Those two elements of Grief were all that she remembered of her past life, and it had been following her ever since. Silence... The Sweetie Belle whispered a plaintive word:

"N-no…"

Sweetie Belle's voice was quiet and grief-stricken, barely echoed in the void. It was swallowed instantly by silence.

An eternity seemed to pass as Sweetie Belle felt whatever was left of her life crumble to dust. She wanted her old life back, but it seemed her old life was what she had just escaped. But that made no sense. She knew in her very soul that there had been a different life. She knew there was more to this… didn't she? There must have been something else.

A hole in the void abruptly opened up, and hearts of the Great Questions drifted through the opening.

"You fought so hard to retrieve these. Though Shadows whispered of the nature of these organs, you were right to bring these before us. It is indeed sad that they came at such a cost, but doesn't all knowledge? Tell us… What drove you to do what you did?"

Sweetie Belle gulped as her mind struggled for a response. The more questions were brought up, the more she realized that she had no answer.

"I… I got them because Madness told me to," she whimpered, "He told me that if I brought them to you, you would help me."

"Help you with what? You have not told us of what you want. Knowledge can achieve much with its retrieval, but the answer to the pure unknown is not one of them. Only One can answer that, and we will never be One. So tell us… What do you truly want now?"

A single tear rolled from Sweetie Belle's right eye as her throat caught. "I want something more. I want a new life. One void of everything I have experienced… I don't know. Can I truly have a better life?"

"So… You want one final answer to one final question."

"Yes…"

The void suddenly shifted, and Sweetie Belle found herself in a beautiful garden. However, it was an odd garden indeed. The sky constantly shifted, as if time itself distorted the weather, and the earth underneath her hooves was glowing with an unnatural light. The flowers shivered and shifted actively, as if they were performing an unusual dance.

"Where am I?" asked Sweetie Belle, looking about, "What is this place?"

"You are on the final path," said the voice. It still came from nothing, like the air itself had been given a voice, and it was addressing her specifically, "This is the garden of beginnings."

"Why is it so strange?" gasped Sweetie Belle, trotting up to a flower and poking it gently with her Zepto Sword.

"Aren't all beginnings wondrous?" breathed the voice, "You must journey to find the Mirror. It has been said by the other to be your answer. Goodbye."

"Wait!" cried Sweetie Belle, "Were you the Council?"

"We were, Sweetie Belle."

"But… You were not as grand as the stories of Effort! There was simply… nothing…"

"You must figure out what you saw on your own, Sweetie Belle. Find the Mirror."

With that, the voice vanished and Sweetie Belle found herself alone in the garden of beginnings. Sweetie Belle sighed. It seemed that there was one final step to take… But she knew it had to be taken. The Council had, like everything else in the MIND, brought up more questions than answers, but the questions that had been made apparent were vastly more important than anything else she had considered. It was true… She could not remember anything of the past. Sweetie Belle sat down in a clump of glowing grass and shut her eyes tight. Shivering with exertion, Sweetie Belle struggled to recall her past. Her mind reached far, far, far back… To the furthest memory she could recall…

Stumbling through grass… Crying… A dear friend had died? Who? She couldn't remember… But it had made no sense. They had been so important, so very important. Darkness… Then Perspective… Then the MIND…

Sweetie Belle felt an unescapable sob wrack her body as she gave up attempting to remember. All she could recall was Grief. Sweetie Belle broke down crying. Her sobs echoed in the calm, iridescent sky for many hours as the little filly cried her heart out. Finally Sweetie Belle pulled her nerves together and slowly crawled up to all fours. After rubbing her eyes to clear it of tears, Sweetie Belle squinted at the garden of beginnings. It was indeed odd, with the strange grass and awe-inspiring sky. Already the sky had gone through a dozen dusks and dawns, though there had been no moon and night sky in between.

"I suppose the only thing to do now is go forward," sighed Sweetie Belle out loud. She didn't really care that she was talking to herself. If others thought she was crazy, then that was fine by her.

Slowly she trotted forward, looking in wonder at the odd glowing plants around her, and, especially, the sky. Aside from the rapidly-evolving clouds, there were odd statues and pillars of stone that floated by high in the air. Gravity apparently meant very little in this land. Fortunately for Sweetie Belle, the land before her was very straight, and she could see between the many moss-covered boulders that lay in the garden willy-nilly. As Sweetie Belle continued to trot, she noticed that the boulders had begun to be replaced by marble figures of trees. And so there she was, trotting within a garden of glowing plants and stone trees. The marble trees started to thicken to the point that Sweetie Belle was squeezing between trunks, and then, suddenly, she found herself in a clearing. There was a shallow lake in the area clear of marble trees, and a large round island resided in the very middle of the lake. In the middle of that round island resided a massive oblique-like monument of obsidian black. Sweetie Belle slowly approached the island, pushing her way through the crystal-clear water of the lake. The monument was not at all impressive, only being about as wide as Sweetie Belle and three times as high. But despite that, it held an aura of mystery and foreboding about it (like most of the unusual constructs within the MIND). Sweetie Belle peered at the monument, and saw, carved upon it, some writing. It read:

"Here lies the first and last resting and birth place of Bilik Alma, the Assassin, the Harbinger of the First Disparity, the Advocate for the Nature of Dark, and the Conjoiner of Destruction."

Sweetie Belle cocked her head to one side. Was this the grave of Bilik Alma? She knew of this strange being by name, of course, for he was the reason the Land of Effort fell. However, why was his grave here? She voiced this concern out loud.

"Hmmmm," she mused, "This is the garden of beginnings, and yet someone has their end marked here. Odd."

Suddenly a voice answered her promptly. "You're calling this place the garden of beginnings? You must have been talking to the council of knowledge. Only do they call this region such a thing."

Sweetie Belle turned around, almost nonchalantly, to face the source of the newest disturbance. She was shocked by what she saw. At the far end of the shallow lake was a massive wall of black stone… and bound upon the black stone with chains of burning steel was a stallion as dark as night. He was so black that it seemed like all color and light about his was being sucked inward, with his surroundings distorting and twisting. The only thing that gave off light as opposed to absorbing it was his eyes, which were glowing an eerie green.

"W-who are you?" breathed Sweetie Belle. She could tell he was clearly bound to the huge wall of rock, but the air of the stallion gave her a feeling of dread and meekness.

The stallion tugged idly at his chains. Not a single link shifted. He then shrugged and replied, "I am Insan, the First Element of Harmony, and the Seventh of the Pillars of Good. Of course, all of those are false names now, so I generally settle for calling myself Insan, bearer of hate, seventh element of disharmony. It matters not what you call me really. But what might you call yourself?"

"I'm Sweetie Belle," replied Sweetie Belle, rather cautiously. She found herself inching away, almost as if she feared that Insan would abruptly break loose of his formidable bindings and rend her to nothing.

Insan blinked. "Sweetie Belle, is it? An odd name for an odd pony, I presume. Either way… No doubt you have heard of me before?"

Sweetie Belle nodded. "I have. You brought ruin to all these regions."

Insan shrugged. "I could just as easily blame those travesties on Bilik Alma, who showed me the path of disharmony. But I digress, as I do not really care what you think. My followers have been scattered in the MIND, ensnared by the Punishment… And here am I, powerless to do anything but watch as the world crumbles, and then is reborn, and then crumbles. You would not believe how many times I have seen an era restart only to meet the exact same end via the exact same means. Astonishing, really."

Sweetie Belle just stared. Whatever Insan had said had gone straight over her head. And thus, she immediately tried to switch the subject. "Insan… You said earlier that only the council of knowledge called this place the garden of beginnings."

Insan rolled his eyes. "Indeed. Only beings as foolishly presumptuous and blindly contemporary as that council would ever dream of attaching such an odd name to a place like this one."

"Huh?" said Sweetie Belle. What Insan had said seemed to not make sense. How could the council be as blind as he said?

"You question my declarations?" asked Insan, guessing her reason for confusion. "Well, I do not blame you. Rarely would one guess that a group named 'council of knowledge' could be in such audaciously benightedness. But then again, knowledge evolves over time, and though it updates in a cumulative fashion, many elements of importance are lost as chaos rocks eternity's timeline. You see, little pony, this place may be currently called 'garden of beginnings' by some young foolish ponies somewhere, but the true meaning of this region is rather different. In the time before the first disparity, this place had another name: it was called 'vale of ends.' Much more fitting, and a whole lot more explanatory, wouldn't you think?"

"I suppose…" mumbled Sweetie Belle, thinking upon Insan's description of the follies of the council, "So if this place if the vale of ends, then is what I am doing coming to an end?"

"Perhaps… But then again, perhaps not. Hence the later name of 'garden of beginning.' One can never really tell," replied Insan with shrug.

"You seem to know a lot, Insan. In this case, could you answer me two questions?" said Sweetie Belle, hoping to finally get some answers, now that she had met someone who was not entirely nonsensical.

"Ask away, strange one, and perhaps I will find it within the dark void of my soul to answer," said Insan complacently.

"Well," started Sweetie Belle, "Can the Grief find me here?"

Insan actually started laughing. "You are still worried about that old thing? Goodness! It must have given you some nasty frights in the corrupted lower lands of the MIND. Why be so concerned? The Grief has done its work. You were lead and then pushed over the precipice that was required by the Shadow! It will not need to bother you. But if you want a more literal answer, then think on this: the vale of ends existed before any of the other lands. It was built outside the former lands of knowledge, and resides within the void outside the ruins of buttresses of disparity. You are too far for the Grief to reach… But then again, why reach here? This was where it was told to lead you."

Sweetie Belle's stomach did a somersault when she heard the phrase 'This was where it was told to lead you.' What commanded such terrible power that the Grief would bend to its will. "What?" she breathed, "Something told it to chase me?"

"Of course, strange one," snorted Insan, "Nothing acts on its own volition in those regions of existence. But that is all you will get from me on that matter. The end is nigh, and there would be no fun to be had if it did not end and restart without some unanswered questions that would remain unanswered the next time around! You said you had two questions. What is the second?"

Sweetie Belle looked down at her hooves. "Do you know where the Mirror is?"

Insan grinned. "And here was I, talking about how the end is nigh… I have little to no idea, strange one. But perhaps I can point you in the proper direction. Beyond this clearing is the Fade of Reality. Quite an odd place, from what I have heard. But then again, I have never been able to see it for myself, so I cannot quite make a particular judgment. Anyway, when you reach the Fade of Reality, you need to start wandering. I do believe it will find you."

Sweetie Belle nodded her head apprehensively. "O-okay."

Insan sighed. "Well, I suppose that concludes our conversation. I am not going anywhere, for bound am I to this rock. However, I do not truly wish to bemoan my position here, for undoubtedly I have avoided such terrible fates as the ones that have probably fallen upon my former teammates in the land of the MIND. Imagine, being murdered by corrupted ponies over, and over, and over again. I shudder to think upon such a sorry locus of lot in the plane of reality! Now be off with you, strange one. You are too important to be associating with the first fallen one."

Sweetie Belle felt rather conflicted. She liked Insan, and he did not seem so bad. Insan saw her hesitate, and grinned. "Do not weep for me," he said, guessing her intentions accurately once again, "See this stone behind me? See the writing upon it? Notice how it covers the face of the rock countless times over. This is the records of my transgressions. I am humanity incarnate. I may understand what it is to be civil, but my transgressions bind me, and I understand that retribution must be made for the destruction of knowledge at the beginnings of the end."

"Humanity? What's that?" said Sweetie Belle, confused.

Insan continued to grin. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Sweetie Belle blanched, and then slowly turned around. It was probably best if she left. As she trotted away from Insan and the monument of Bilik Alma, Insan called out, "Be careful, and always watch your left! Bilik Alma never did that, and the shadows got him. Odd, isn't it? Even the darkest agent of chaos, hate, and grief can be brought down by something even more primordial… something worse. I hope you don't consort with such characters!"

Insan's voice faded to oblivion, as the marble trees closed about her, and Sweetie Belle was alone once more.

"That was indeed odd," murmured Sweetie Belle, "But then again I shouldn't be complaining. Hmmmmm… Insan said that the Mirror would find me. I guess that means I keep wandering!"

Sweetie Belle began to trot straight ahead, doing her best to keep he hopes up. She was nearing the end, the council said so. The trees grew closer together, and the shadows became clustered. And then Sweetie Belle was suddenly in a different place altogether. She was in a town. Sweetie Belle blinked. A town? It had been eternities since she had been in a proper one. But here she was nonetheless. The buildings were quaint, but they were grey and lifeless. Dirt streets led away from her in all directions like a crooked spider's web. A rusty old sign read "Town of Ponyville" but those words meant nothing to Sweetie Belle. Up above there was a moon. An actual moon. There was no longer a sempiternal jack-o-lantern sun… it had forevermore been replaced by a soft, shining, silver-and-white orb. Sweetie Belle stared, almost blankly, feeling herself being drawn into the void of the dark night sky.

"How have you been faring?"

Sweetie Belle leapt a meter into the air. She went for her Zepto Sword, and whipped it up high. But as she looked about, she saw that it was Madness, not some hideous corrupted denizen coming to bring doom upon her… probably.

"Madness, I have not seen you in a while," said Sweetie Belle, regarding the odd pony, "How are you?"

"I have been better, but that is not of importance. You are more important than I. Have you been to see the council?"

Sweetie Belle nodded. "I have. They took me here… To the vale of ends. I am to find the Mirror."

Madness regarded Sweetie Belle with a curious stare. "Vale of ends… Have you spoken with Insan, then?"

Sweetie Belle nodded a second time. "I have indeed."

"And did he speak of Bilik Alma?"

"A little. Shadows got him, or something like that. I didn't really understand."

"Few of us do. Did he speak of me?"

"No…?"

"Odd. But I digress. Now tell me, have you found the Mirror?"

Sweetie Belle grimaced. "No. Insan said I was to wander… and let it find me."

Madness smiled. "Curious," he murmured, "But I suppose that is the best way to word it, considering the confusing nature. Have you checked your heart?"

"Checked my… what…?" asked Sweetie Belle. She instinctively reached for her chest, and then she gasped. A small metal square was sticking out of her fur at an angle, as if it was buried in her chest. She seized an edge and wrenched it out. There was no blood… it simply came out. Sweetie Belle inspected the small square. It was about the size of her hoof, and was very plain. But the most defining property was its state. It was absolutely covered in grime, with only a couple specks of reflective material visible. A dozen or so massive cracks split through the filth, making the thing look even more decrepit.

Sweetie Belle groaned. "How am I supposed to use this? I can barely see anything!"

"Perhaps that can be remedied," whispered Madness, "But that is not of importance currently. You have found the mirror. The council spoke of its importance. Do you know what you are supposed to do now?"

Sweetie Belle screwed up her face as she thought back on her conversation with the council. "Well… I decided on what I wanted. I wanted to start over. I wanted peace. I wanted something different from what I have been experiencing."

"That's your wish? Different?" asked Madness in hushed tones, "But why? Do you not wish for your life to return to what it used to be?"

"That's the problem," sighed Sweetie Belle, the reminder of her one massive shortcoming plaguing her mind once more, "I don't remember a life beside this. I most of forgotten it… Or perhaps it never was…"

"Perhaps," said Madness, "But now think upon your wish. You want things to be different. This Mirror can give you that… But the council did not mention the cost."

Sweetie Belle looked to Madness. "The cost?"

Madness nodded, and he seemed to grow in size. The small twisted houses moved back, the sky warped, and the shadows scurried. "Little one… You will need to make a new self."

"What…?" Sweetie Belle blinked. She did not understand what Madness was asking.

Madness gestured slightly, and a puddle full of crystal liquid appeared from nowhere at Sweetie Belle's hooves. "Look at yourself in the puddle."

Sweetei Belle did as she bade, and what she saw filled her heart with pain and horror. Staring back at her was a wild-eyed, tangled-mane, lunatic. The creature before her was smudged in blood and filth, and was bearing a gore-covered weapon. Upon the monster's head resided a faded bowler hat.

"That's… That's me?" choked Sweetie Belle. A single tear rolled from her right eye. The smudged droplet fell earthward, striking the surface of the puddle, sending ripples throughout. The small effect did naught but distort and worsen the image before her.

"Indeed," said Madness emotionlessly, "That is what you have become. That is what the MIND has made you. You have gone too far on your quest for a new start. But that is always the case. As Insan said, this is the vale of ends… But as the council also said, this is the garden of beginnings. Though one is vastly older in terms, both definitions of this final region are accurate. You can still have that new beginning, Sweetie Belle… But it comes with an end as well."

Sweetie Belle's mind had gone numb. She could think of nothing else to say but, "Tell me what to do."

"Clear away the grime upon the Mirror."

Sweetie Belle proceeded to scrub at the Mirror with her almost equivalently-filthy hoof. In several minutes she had a good spot of the metal square clear. Sweetie Belle peered at the reflective material, and she gasped. A pony was staring back at her… but could it be possible? The pony staring back at her was herself, of course, but an entirely different version. Her mane was fluffy and well-done, and her coat was clear. Her eyes were healthy and bright. This was fairly much the literal opposite of her current state.

"W-what is this?" breathed Sweetie Belle. Her eyes began to well up with tears again. This was her dream. This was all she wanted now. She wanted to be made anew.

"This is your dream, realized," whispered Madness, "This is the beginning. Just wish it…"

Sweetie Belle stared longingly into the mirror. With ever centimeter of her soul she wished for what she saw to be true… and the suddenly she found herself staring straight in the eyes of the pony she wished to be… except those eyes were no longer sealed behind mirrored walls. This pony was here, and the Mirror was no more.

Sweetie Belle started. Was that pony… her? The look-alike simply stared and smiled. It was clear she was independent of Sweetie Belle now, but it also seemed that she had no ability to do much.

"What happened?" gasped Sweetie Belle, "Is that truly me?"

"It is indeed," murmured Madness, "That is what you wish to be… as I said: a dream… realized."

Sweetie Belle reached forward to gently touch the mane of the perfect image of herself. But she met with resistance. An invisible barrier of power blocker her hoof from feeling the mane of the one she wished she could be. Sweetie Belle' recoiled a hoof, and her face filled with pain.

"Why… Why can't I touch her?" she said, the tears in her eyes spilling over.

"There cannot be two of you," replied Madness in hushed tones, "This reality, as curious and unstable as it is, still possesses fundamental ground rules of the unknown. Only one of you can exist within the MIND."

Sweetie Belle's stomach flooded with fear. She knew very well what Madness was talking about. Only one of the two Sweetie Belle's could survive. "That means… One of us has to die?"

Madness actually bowed his head. "It is your decision. Either you can continue to live, and perhaps find a way out of this Fade of Reality. Mayhap there is a land beyond that will allow creatures like you to enter… But mayhap there is no such hope."

Sweetie Belle bit her bottom lip until she tasted blood. Her stomach was writhing with grief, and she felt like she may be ill. Everything she had worked towards… boiled down to this.

"So it is either my dream… or me," whispered Sweetie Belle. Her eyes became glassed over as she stared at her perfect look-alike. The look-alike stared back sweetly, with a bright and loving gaze radiating from her eyes. Madness said nothing. He was gone… and so was Sweetie Belle's bowler hat.

Slowly, Sweetie Belle drew her blade, aiming it at the other version of herself. "This is my chance to start over as a new pony… Or does my current life mean too much? I have fought so hard, and performed so many evils just to preserve my life… Do I throw it away now for another? No… This… This is what I was fighting for all this time. This was what I wanted. I wanted a new start… This is what I must do."

Sweetie Belle drew back her blade, and then turned it on herself and rammed the tip into her chest. In an instant, the invisible barrier blocking herself from her look-alike shattered.

"NOOOOOO!" screamed the perfect version, "NOOOOOOO!"

Sweetie Belle fell to the earth, vomiting up blood. Slowly, cold began to creep throughout her form, and her vision began to darken.

"HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?!" screamed the perfect version. Tears exploded from the innocent pony's eyes. She rushed to Sweetie Belle's side, shaking her gently. Her pupils reflected terrible, horrible grief. "WHY DID THIS HAVE TO HAPPEN?!"

Sweetie Belle somehow managed to smile. "Peace," she gurgled, blood spilling from her lips, "This is for the better. You are as new as fresh fallen snow. My dream has been realized."

Sweetie Belle died.

"NOOOOOOOOO!" shrieked Sweetie Belle. Why had this happened? This pony had been her friend; she had no right to die like that. She was her sister, her shared existence. And now the ties were severed, and she knew naught of the hideous reason. But even if she had, it would have made no difference. A friend had died, and now it was a time of mourning, a time of grief. Sweetie Belle turned tail and dashed out of the town. Suddenly she was in the middle of a field, leading from nowhere to nowhere, but she paid no attention.

Sweetie Belle stumbled through the grass, tears streaming from her eyes. Why had her best friend died? Why? She couldn't understand it. It had made no sense whatsoever. It had been swift, and violent, and now all that was left was an empty husk. A soulless corpse of what was once her best friend. Sweetie Belle gasped for breath as the tears continued to stream down her face. Her mind was numb, and she had no idea where she was running. On a reflex, she glanced back; she was about a kilometer away from Ponyville now. Had she really gone that far? She didn't care. She needed to get away; she needed to get far, far, far away. The death had been sudden… and she did not know if she could ever come to terms with it.

You move your remaining knight back to E5. Check. This is not a checkmate, but an intelligent opponent will count the costs and concede. But madness is rarely attached to the proper intelligence, and genius is a whole different matter. This is not a victory.

The End.